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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25765588">Organizational Workout</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azeran/pseuds/Azeran'>Azeran</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Miraculous [10]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Miraculous Ladybug</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Gen, Luka Couffaine Loves Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Luka Couffaine POV, Minor Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, marinette is helpful</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 05:48:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,411</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25765588</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azeran/pseuds/Azeran</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Luka’s closet is a hot mess. Marinette intends to fix that.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Miraculous [10]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1773388</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>211</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>miraculous ladybug stories</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>You could interpret this as just them being friends. The Lukanette is more subtle here, so enjoy it at your leisure!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>In retrospect, he should’ve been expecting this. Letting Marinette, a blossoming fashion designer, sort through his closet? It was a recipe for disaster. But, try as he might, Luka couldn’t find it in himself to be sorry. Not when the whole experience was so damn entertaining. Seriously! The language alone had him dying with laughter! Who would’ve guessed that a cute girl like Marinette could swear so...well, </span>
  <em>
    <span>creatively?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Case and point, another round of swearing graced Luka’s ears. This time though, it was muffled, and radiated a distinct sense of frustration that he’d only ever felt from Juleka before. It was completely endearing...and vaguely intimidating. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Marinette? How’s it going over there? Need any help?” Luka deliberately kept his voice light, hiding a laugh behind his hand. Just in time too. Marinette suddenly came stumbling out of his closet with another armful of clothes, which she promptly dropped onto his bed with a frazzled huff. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The only thing I need from you is an explanation, Luka Couffaine!” Marinette glowered at him, stabbing her finger at the clothing pile. “I want you to tell me HOW.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Luka muffled another laugh, propping himself up against the headboard so he could better see the fuming brunette. “How what?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Marinette flailed her arms between the closet and clothes, clearly resisting the urge to throttle him senseless. “How!! How did you let your closet get this bad!? You had clothes in there that are more holes than fabric!! Look!” She yanked a t-shirt out of the pile and brandished it at him. True to her word, it was riddled with tears and holes, and the hem had completely unraveled at one side. “Luka, what even is this,” Marinette whined. “It’s barely a shirt!!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Well, she wasn’t entirely wrong. “Probably because it’s super old. This is one of the first pieces of band merch I ever bought with my own money. I think I was..eleven? Maybe twelve?” Pinching the hem between his fingers, Luka fingered the crepe-thin material and grinned. “Man, this thing brings back memories. I used to wear this shirt every day to school. Like, </span>
  <em>
    <span>every </span>
  </em>
  <span>day. No exaggeration. I thought it would bring me good luck.” He peeked at Marinette through his lashes, chuckling softly. “Must still be working.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No amount of makeup could hide the way she blushed after that, or how her lips began to twitch and tremble, threatening a smile. Still, Marinette put on a good show of trying to look stern as she yanked the shirt away and folded it up, her prim little sigh resonating through the air. “Stop joking! This is serious, Luka! Half of your clothes are falling apart at the seams, and I refuse to believe that they all hold sentimental value!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, c’mon Marinette. They’re not that bad.” Even still, Luka thoughtfully eyed the pile on his bed, which was a lot bigger than it rightfully should’ve been. Honestly though, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d sorted through his closet, or gotten rid of anything, so there was probably stuff in there that he hadn’t worn in years. If not longer. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>…....Fuck. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay, maybe you have a point. I think I might be long overdue for a purge,” Luka admitted, dragging a few things towards him as he silently began to list off the damage. Holes, rips, discoloration, not to mention a large amount of popped seams. And that was just the tip of the iceberg! “Wow…” he slowly looked up, sheepishly wilting under her stare. “This is...kind of a hot mess, huh?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mm, maybe a little.” Thankfully Marinette left it at that, affectionately squeezing his forearm. “It’s okay though! I know this all looks really overwhelming, but it won’t be so bad! I’ve got the perfect system to help you stay focused while we sort through it all.” She reached up to tweak his bangs, her smile as bright as her eyes. “Don’t worry Luka. Everything will be fine! You’ll see!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hngh. Famous last words. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“...Sure Marinette. Whatever you say.” </span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It was one hour later, and Luka’s room had become a strategic war zone. Everything in his closet and drawers had been turned out, awaiting inspection from Marinette’s critical eye, only to then be documented, scrutinized, and finally sorted into one of the three piles that now took up his entire bed; keep, repair, and reject. That was the pile she’d lovingly begun to refer to as the dumpster fire. Luka couldn’t blame her. Nothing in there was wearable, unless he wanted to leave the boat looking like a zombie. Or ten years out of fashion, which pretty much amounted to the same thing in her eyes. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Surprisingly though, Marinette had deemed very few of his clothes actually unsalvageable. Most of his closet went into the keep and repair piles, save the few special pieces that were sentimental in value. He’d tucked those away, just in case. But aside from those, Luka was shocked to find that he’d basically been left with three nearly identical stacks, the repair one only being a few inches taller than the others. Not too shabby, all things considered. It definitely could’ve been a lot worse. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And now? Well, Luka felt...okay. Maybe even relieved. His closet was clean, for the first time in ages, and he definitively knew exactly how much of his wardrobe still fit, looked good, and was presentable enough to appease the basic human standard. Stuff he’d never really thought about in the past, but intuitively understood the importance of. So it was kind of nice to have that weight off his shoulders now. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Plus, helping him out made Marinette happy. That was reason enough to suffer just about anything, at least in Luka’s eyes. Including a grueling hour of having his closet turned inside out….even if he did still find the whole process exhausting. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Huh. Speaking of…. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Holy shit. Marinette, I...I think that’s everything.” Luka slumped forward in shock, raking a hand through his hair as he stared at the last pair of jeans he’d folded. As far as he could tell, there was nothing left to look over. No wayward clothes needing sorting. That was a good sign. A </span>
  <em>
    <span>great </span>
  </em>
  <span>sign. “....Wow. We did it. We really did it. We got through it all.” Fuck. Luka heaved a sigh and looked at his petite partner, practically pleading for validation with his wobbly grin. “Right? That’s it? We’re done?”  </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Busy thumbing through the clothes that needed repairs, Marinette looked up at him with a cheerful smile and nodded her head. “Mhm! I think so! Well, with this part anyway. Everything else will be much easier now, going forward.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Oh thank god. “Okay, cool. That...that’s awesome.” Luka heaved a laugh and flopped back on the floor, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Fuck Marinette. I don’t see how you do this twice a year. Organizing, sorting. It’s a workout!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It can be, if you’re unprepared. The trick is to stick with it, but go slow. One task at a time.” Marinette giggled at his loud groan, gently slapping his thigh. “Oh c’mon! Don’t be like that! At least your closet’s small! Mine usually takes me forever to sort through.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Imagine that. A fashion designer with a ton of clothes.” His quip earned him another slap, but Luka didn’t care. How could he, when Marinette was so clearly enjoying herself? “So, what now? We put all the clothes away, box up the ones that need repairs, and…..?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Well…..” Marinette tapped her lip, humming thoughtfully. “I was actually thinking we could go get lunch first? My treat?” A hopeful sparkle illuminated her blue eyes as she beamed at him, offering out one pale, slender hand. “It’s healthy to take breaks, remember? And I don’t want you burning out before we’re totally finished! We still have a lot of work left to do!” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That—sounded an awful lot like an excuse. But hey, who was he to judge? If she wanted a break, he’d be delighted to indulge her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Sounds great Marinette.” Luka grabbed her hand and let her pull him to his feet, basking in the warmth of her company as they walked out of his bedroom together, smiling goofily all the while. He barely even thought about the work waiting for them when they got back, or the afternoon’s chaos as a whole. Because, at the end of the day….</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Spending time with Marinette made it all worth it. </span>
</p>
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